


call me tonight

by jaehafxcker



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Anal Fingering, Edging, Established Relationship, M/M, Modern AU, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaehafxcker/pseuds/jaehafxcker
Summary: “Unfortunately, I don’t feel like waiting.” Jae-ha has a talent for letting temptation drip from his tongue, and Kija always finds himself wanting to taste it — now is no different. “And you don’t sound like you want to, either.” [Jae-ha/Kija]
Relationships: Jae-Ha & Kija (Akatsuki no Yona), Jae-Ha/Kija (Akatsuki no Yona)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 62





	1. a call at midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> massive thanks to caro and her constant motivation and ideas!! i love talking abt jaeki with you & i hope i can bring more of our concepts to life!!

“Mm—hello?”

“Kija, _dear_ ,” the voice on the other end of the line drawls, a deliberate purr that’s sensual and thick. There’s a heavy sigh that follows those two deliciously tempting words, and it echoes in Kija’s ear long after it’s passed, goosebumps rising over fair skin as interest tugs on his heart and twists in his belly.

He takes a moment before he responds to the alluringly lazy drag of his name, rolling onto his side and snuggling up beneath the sheets once again. It’s just after midnight, and he’s not quite sure if he’s interested in whatever games Jae-ha has chosen to play, but still, Kija can’t bring himself to do more than huff with feigned annoyance and flatly ask, “What do you want?”

“Just wanted to talk,” Jae-ha replies without missing a beat, unfazed by Kija’s attitude — he’s more than used to it, after all, and pushing Kija’s buttons is half the fun. His words are accentuated by a smirk — Kija can hear it in his tone; it’s suggestive, predatory, and there’s an electric warmth that pulses through his veins when his heartbeat picks up an irregular, anxious pace.

“We can talk tomorrow,” Kija tells him matter-of-factly, but it’s a gentle argument, unconvincing to even himself, and he doesn’t try to push their conversation to an end; he thinks that his heart does this little flip in his chest when he speaks against Jae-ha, with the sole intention of provoking him. He’s staring absently ahead at the shadows cast on the walls of his room as his words hang in a silence ignited with desire.

There’s a smile gracing Jae-ha’s voice when he says, “Unfortunately, I don’t feel like waiting.” Jae-ha has a talent for letting temptation drip from his tongue, and Kija always finds himself wanting to taste it — now is no different. “And you don’t sound like you want to, either.”

Kija isn’t sure whether it’s the truth behind those words that causes the flutter in his chest or if it’s the dominant tone with which they’re spoken; that white-hot desire cuts through his heart and blooms in his abdomen, and Kija shifts his legs a little as his pants suddenly feel just a little too _tight_.

He laughs softly into the phone, one hand making its way down between his legs, and murmurs, “I suppose you got me.”

Jae-ha chuckles in return, and the sound has these little butterflies flittering around restlessly in Kija’s stomach. “Mm — so I did. So, tell me — where are you right now, Kija, dear?”

Clearly, Jae-ha has a motive — Kija knew that from the moment he answered the phone and was greeted by a voice rough with arousal on the other end; a rare late night call from a man as sensual as Jae-ha can only mean one thing. After all, it’s not like they haven’t done this before.

Kija is still laying on his side with the blankets pulled over his shoulder and up to his chin; he’s warm, and perhaps he’d be more comfortable if he didn’t have a growing erection pressing into the confines of his pajama bottoms. His hand has found its way beneath his shirt, delicate fingers dragging over his abdomen in lazy circles. He desperately wants to touch further, but he can be patient.

“In bed,” Kija finally answers, and he realizes then that the length of his pause has caught Jae-ha’s attention.

“Ah.” Jae-ha is swift to respond, as always, and his voice is so rough, so alluring. He clicks his tongue. “Are you naked?”

Somewhere deep down, Kija knew that a question of such nature was fast approaching, but still, it startles him enough for his breath to hitch — and Jae-ha hears it. He knows by the rugged laughter so close to his ear, and it sounds so much louder than it is in the sheer silence of his room. Kija shivers, a surprisingly pleasant tingle crackling down his spine as his skin crawls with a frustrating combination of anticipation and lust.

He almost wishes he were — naked, that is. His pants are too tight; his shirt is too heavy. His skin is flushed — from both embarrassment and his growing arousal, no doubt — and the blankets are only adding extra weight, more heat. The thoughts that slip through his mind are ones he won’t openly share — if it were Jae-ha’s body over him, would he still _complain_ about feeling too hot?

Kija’s mind is quick to elaborate on that scenario, memories of the nights they’ve shared together resurfacing to paint a picture that’s dark and erotic. Jae-ha’s lips are always like electricity searing his shoulders and back, teeth sharp as they nibble bruises into his skin; he likes to press in close to Kija’s slender frame, caging the younger man in strong arms and rocking into him with a pace that’s near punishing. Kija wants to shake these thoughts from his mind, but it’s too late now.

Oh, that’s right — Jae-ha asked if he was naked. Despite trying to sound firm, Kija’s voice trembles under his own arousal. “No. I’m trying to sleep, actually.”

“Well, what would you be doing if I were next to you?” Jae-ha asks suggestively; he’s really giving Kija the perfect opening to play into his game, to accept defeat and give in to Jae-ha’s temptation now, because they both know he will later.

It’s obvious to them both that Jae-ha’s already had Kija roped in from the moment he answered his call. Perhaps Kija still has himself convinced that Jae-ha doesn’t know how absolutely turned on he is from the lilt in his voice alone — well, the impure thoughts plaguing his mind alongside Jae-ha’s tone are certainly helping.

If Jae-ha were directly in front of him now, fingers dipping into the waistband of his pants and mouth leaving a hot trail over flushed skin, Kija might have faltered even more than he already has. Jae-ha may not have the advantage of physical touch now, but Kija is no stranger to his skill, and even if he’s miles away, that infuriatingly attractive voice paired with the sinfully sweet memories of previous escapades is easily turning him to putty.

“I’d probably still be trying to sleep,” Kija tells him — he can’t help it, really; sometimes, especially with Jae-ha, he has to be a little snarky. Bickering is in their nature.

And sometimes, it presses Jae-ha to step up his game.

Perhaps that’s exactly what Kija wants.

“Kija, _darling_ ,” Jae-ha says slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue like honey. “You know I wouldn’t be letting you sleep if I were there right now.”

Jae-ha wins with that, and he knows it. They both do. There’s a response working itself together in Kija’s mind somewhere, but it falls short as he struggles with his voice; it’s a low mewl of desire that slips past his lips instead of any coherent answer, and he almost — _almost_ — misses Jae-ha’s sharp inhale at the sound. His skin crawls at the noise, and an electric heat works its way down his spine as he catches another ragged breath from Jae-ha’s end.

Somehow, it’s overwhelming — Jae-ha’s voice is too much and not enough all at the same time. Kija finds himself shifting again, and he isn’t trying to be quiet about it. He rolls onto his back rather quickly, blankets tossed aside because it’s still just far too _hot_ . His eyes flutter closed as he sucks in a deep breath and finally allows himself to _touch_.

It’s gentle, slow — the palm of his hand brushes against the erection straining in his pants with a pressure so light that it only leaves him craving more. He gasps at the contact — quiet, sweet — and his hips rock forward into his palm, chasing the sensations that he’s not quite allowing himself to enjoy just yet. But Jae-ha’s groan in his ear, the movement he’s hearing from Jae-ha’s end of the call — Kija’s not the only one teasing himself.

Kija starts to speak before he even realizes what he’s saying. “J-Jae-ha, are you—?”

“Yes,” Jae-ha sighs gruffly into the phone. “And you’re going to, too.”

Another spark of arousal prickles in his belly, and Kija swallows thickly. His phone almost slips from his fingers when he squeezes it in his grasp. Kija doesn’t need to be told twice, not with the commanding tone of Jae-ha’s voice lingering in his ears and a newfound desire at the order burning in his gut. He makes a small noise of acknowledgement, of agreement — something close to a hum, but more like a strangled whimper.

Though he denied himself such firm attention only moments before, Kija’s given in under Jae-ha’s words. His clothes are still so restricting, but he doesn’t bother to pull his pants down — not yet. The friction is so deliciously sweet as Kija squeezes himself in his hand, rubbing gentle circles with the weight of his palm, but it’s far from enough. He can’t stop the groan that rumbles deep within his throat at the attention, but he’s quick to choke it down when Jae-ha chuckles in response.

“You’re quiet,” Jae-ha remarks breathlessly.

“I have neighbors,” Kija snaps, and his voice is lit with a hushed sense of urgency.

“Are you touching yourself, Kija, darling?” Jae-ha purrs softly; the way he staggers irregularly over his words alone has a very impure image in Kija’s head — one where Jae-ha is stroking himself with long, lazy pulls of his hand.

“I am,” he answers obediently, and Kija thinks he’s sick of these clothes, now. He clumsily pulls his pajama pants, along with his boxers, down over his hips with one hand, awkwardly raising his hips to shimmy out of them; he hisses when the fabric drags over his dick but sighs once it’s free from those confines, and he half-expects Jae-ha to make a snarky comment about how desperate, how needy he sounds.

It never comes.

Instead, Jae-ha waits for Kija to stop shuffling, and once he’s met with silence, he asks, “How?”

“How?” he echoes, momentarily dumbfounded. Kija takes himself gently into his hand, gives himself a few experimental strokes, and he hums at the pleasant sensation.

“How are you touching yourself?” Jae-ha clarifies.

Perhaps Kija should have seen that question coming, too. He splutters, trips over his words, and he can feel his ears burning at the answer he knows Jae-ha is looking for. He doesn't even entertain the _possibility_ of speaking those details out loud; instead, he manages a slightly-aggressive, “H-How do you think?”

Jae-ha has no mercy. He ignores the little outburst, but his tone is one of amusement and lust. “Does it feel good?”

The words barely make it out of Jae-ha’s mouth before Kija is throwing back another almost-irritable reply. “If it didn’t, I wouldn’t be doing it.”

Snorting at that comment — it’s just so decidedly _Kija_ ; despite getting so easily embarrassed, he certainly knows how to fight back — Jae-ha whispers, “What are you thinking about?”

Kija hesitates then — he’s torn between spilling his truth, the obvious answer, the one Jae-ha already knows and expects to hear, and something else that wouldn’t be a lie, but a twist of his facts to spare himself the sheer embarrassment of the thoughts running rampant in his mind. He decides to opt out of sharing the erotic details.

“Thinking a-about—” Kija breaks off, sighing heavily as his thumb brushes over the head of his dick; he shudders under his own touch, voice trembling. “—how I wish you were the one doing this to me right now.”

Seeing the opportunity to press Kija into giving him a more thorough description, Jae-ha tries again, and the smile behind his cheeky question is impossible to miss. “Doing what?”

“Jae-ha,” Kija huffs out impatiently; it’s meant to be firm, scolding, as though he’s chastising his lover for messing around, but it sounds so close to a moan that Jae-ha chokes on his next words.

“O-Okay, okay.” There’s a pause — Jae-ha is flustered, and he’s surrendering now, instead deciding to take a different direction with their phone call. He clears his throat, as though it’ll push away the hunger in his tone, the desire that’s consuming him from the inside out. “Let’s try this — stop what you’re doing, Kija.”

The command takes him by surprise, and Kija finds himself pulling his hand away before he can form the words to question Jae-ha’s motive. “Alright,” he whispers softly, almost as though he’s entranced. “Now what?”

Jae-ha’s voice is stern, gravelly. “I need you to do exactly as I say, and nothing more.”


	2. on speaker

Kija doesn’t grace Jae-ha’s order with a response — he can’t. He knows that if he tries to speak now, he’ll only splutter, trip over his words. Instead, he opts to stay quiet, allowing a tense, lustful silence to stretch between the two; Kija’s alone in his room, but the air feels charged with electricity, hot and dangerous, as though anything could change in a mere heartbeat.

And he wishes it were like that, wishes that the storm of desire in Jae-ha’s violet eyes could be looking directly at him; if Kija were sitting across from his devilishly handsome boyfriend right now, lightning would be crackling between their gazes. They would be poised to strike, ready to move, to explore, to touch, to kiss.

The voice from the other end of the line is low, rough, and goosebumps rise on the back of Kija’s neck as Jae-ha finally asks, “Do you have lube?”

What is it about this conversation that’s keeping Kija so on-edge? He’s trembling, his heart racing so fast that he wouldn’t be surprised if Jae-ha could hear its pounding beat through the phone and miles of distance.

In response to Jaeha’s question, Kija nods dumbly, as if the other man were right in front of him to see the quizzical raise of his eyebrow — Jae-ha should already  _ know _ the answer to that question; it’s far too tempting to throw back another witty retort, but Kija settles with a bewildered, “Y-Yes, of course.”

“Good, you’ll need it.” And Jae-ha goes quiet, because there’s nothing more to be said.

Kija takes advantage of that moment to shift on his bed, shuffling closer to its edge and reaching for the nightstand drawer. The bottle is hidden in there amongst some of his other miscellaneous belongings, and after some digging around, he’s claimed it and is sliding the drawer shut again. Before he settles back into his spot on the bed, he arranges his pillows so that he can lean back on them while sitting up a little more properly, to give himself the space he needs to work.

With the phone tucked in between his cheek and shoulder, Kija snaps open the bottle of lube, and the noise seems to echo in the thick silence of his room.

Jae-ha must have heard it, because he quickly adds, “Just a little on your fingers, love.”

A hum is the only answer Jae-ha receives to his order, and Kija squeezes a small amount in a line along the length of his index and middle finger; he lays the bottle next to him on his bed — he might need it later.

“Done,” Kija says quietly, and he’s holding his phone in his free hand again, absently tubbing those two fingers together to smear the cold gel over them; it warms on his skin.

“Can you prepare yourself for me, Kija, darling?” Jae-ha asks, and his voice is so sickeningly sweet. His tone is thick with experience, heavy with unspoken promises that he wants to bring to life in the form of skilled touches and sloppy kisses.

Kija splutters, heartbeat stuttering in his chest. His face heats up at those words, ears burning with some combination of ardor and embarrassment. “H-How?”

It’s not that he doesn’t know — he does, really, knows every trick that makes him feel good, and he has Jae-ha to thank for that. Kija knows the pace to set for himself that works best, knows exactly when to crook his fingers so that it’ll make him see stars. He knows how to coax himself to the brink of orgasm and stop just short before leading himself into a mind-numbing climax. He knows that he can roll his nipples beneath his fingertips for an extra push.

And yet, somehow, Jae-ha always seems to take care of him in a way that feels so infinitely different. Perhaps it’s because he can’t predict the path Jae-ha’s hands will take. Jae-ha would be peppering kisses over his throat and settling on a pulse point to suck a mark into his skin. He would be pinned beneath strong arms, with soft green hair tickling his skin as it fell over Jae-ha’s shoulder.

But Jae-ha isn’t here, and Kija only has his orders and rough voice to fuel the desire churning in his stomach.

“Stretch yourself,” Jae-ha clarifies, “the way you know I would do it.”

Kija is quick to do as he’s told, his hand sliding down between parted legs. He exhales heavily into the phone as he teases himself with the tips of his fingers, tracing circles around his entrance. He can’t help but throw a little more sass Jae-ha’s way, but he shudders as he speaks, and the feigned annoyance behind his tone melts into desperate arousal. “What, slowly? You always take too long.”

There’s a laugh that follows those words, and Jaeha’s voice is strained as he says, “I know you love it, Kija, dear. Keeps you on the edge, so you don’t know what to expect.” Jae-ha’s words come to an abrupt halt as he groans hotly, and it’s so deliciously close to Kija’s ear. “That’s the best part, wouldn’t you say?”

“Except you’re not the one touching me right now,” Kija quickly counters, with a sharp bite to his words.

(And oh, Jae-ha loves that entirely too much, how Kija can be so soft and sweet, so easily embarrassed, but with a little bit of provoking, he adopts such a fiery attitude that can only make Jae-ha laugh.)

Even as Kija speaks, he’s pressing into himself with his index finger, and the penetration is so agonizingly slow, the same way he knows Jae-ha would treat him if he were here; there’s a bit of a stretch, some mild discomfort, but it’s a sensation he knows will ease very soon.

“I know my next move,” Kija adds quietly when Jae-ha doesn’t respond quickly enough.

“You don’t,” Jae-ha purrs, so matter-of-factly that Kija feels his muscles tighten around his finger. “Because when I tell you to stop, you’ll stop, won’t you?”

Those words, so firm and yet so gentle, hang in the air, drifting off into a duet of soft moans and hushed whimpering. Jae-ha must be content with that, because he doesn’t try to badger Kija into keeping up a conversation, and for that, Kija is grateful — he’s taken the opportunity to focus on himself, twisting his finger a little, wiggling it; he only notices that he’s been holding his breath when he decides it’s time to add the second finger, a wanton whine slipping past his lips as he presses it past the tight ring of muscle.

“H-How can you be so sure?” Kija manages finally, the question coming out in a pinched sigh. He’s found a gentle rhythm, pumping his fingers with a pace so slow it puts even his excruciating tease of a boyfriend to shame.

“Because you’re obedient, love,” Jae-ha tells him. “You’d probably feel guilty if you didn’t listen.”

Jae-ha’s voice is so alluring, so mesmerizing, and it embraces Kija with a comforting warmth; he curls his fingers within himself then, at the exact moment he imagines Jae-ha would accentuate his words. He’s clenching around those two fingers, hips instinctively rocking into the movement; he needs something thicker, something deeper.

“I-Is that how you think of me, Jae-ha?” he asks softly, and his tone is strangled and indecent.

“Mm.” During the pause, Kija thinks he hears the sound of Jae-ha’s hand moving swiftly over his own dick, wet noises smacking behind a blanket of heavy breathing. “You know, it’s not an insult.”

While he’s grateful to hear that added point, the only answer Kija offers in response is a blissful sigh. He spreads his legs a little farther apart to give himself the leverage for a faster pace — if Jae-ha is taking care of himself so hurriedly, then he’ll do the same. And this new tempo brings with it such exquisite friction that coils up in his belly and comes perilously close to what he  _ needs _ .

And Kija scissors his fingers, stretching as though to prepare himself for the man who isn’t even here to  _ take him _ . There’s a twinge of discomfort along with it, but it’s so minute that Kija can’t bring himself to mind. He presses in as deep as he can manage from this angle, curling his fingers sharply in search of his prostate, and the pads of delicate fingers find it quickly, and he gasps, choking on the air in his throat.

The man on the other end of the line hums at that noise, sinfully playful, and asks, “How’d that feel?”

Kija wants to tell him he’s being annoying.

“How do you  _ think  _ that felt?” he retorts instead, making the same movement with his fingers to draw out a similar reaction. Sure enough, Kija shivers, his breath shaking as he lets out a long sigh. That’s it — just a little more of that, and he’ll be finished.

There’s no need for him to feed into Kija’s attitude right now. “Put the phone on speaker.”

Suddenly, Kija had forgotten how to multitask; his heart does this silly little somersault in his chest, arousal flowing like hot lava through his veins and down between his legs. His fingers still, so he can focus on Jae-ha’s words and his own reply. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Put it on speaker,” Jae-ha repeats firmly without missing a beat, and after taking a moment to wait for an indignant protest, he explains, “You’ll need your other hand.”

“O-Okay.” Kija, complaisant as always, is quick to switch his phone over as instructed, and he sets it next himself on the bed. “You’re on speaker.”

“Perfect.” That captivating voice echoes in the still of his bedroom now, and Kija shivers; Jae-ha sounds so loud, so close by — as though he’s in there right next to him. “Can you stroke yourself for me, dear?”

With a hum of appreciation, the hand that had been holding his phone to his ear is on his own dick in an instant. His fingers are slender and warm, curling around himself with a firm grip; he gasps, hips snapping upward in search of something, anything  _ more _ — friction, pressure, movement. His thumb slips up to the head of his cock, smearing leaking pre-cum over firm, heated skin, and Kija inhales sharply and holds it; after a few experimental pumps of his hand, Kija lets out his breath through quivering lips, a noise somewhere between a sigh and a desperate whimper.

“Sounds like it feels good,” Jae-ha remarks, and Kija can hear that stupid smile gracing his words.

It’s a little strange to be using both hands on himself, and Kija’s movements are a little out of sync despite his attempts to keep the deliberate strokes up and down the length of his dick in-time with the explorative thrusts of those two fingers into his ass. Another wiggle of those digits has him shuddering.

“It would feel better if you were here,” Kija admits, the words nothing above a whisper that drifts off with their heavy breaths. He’s too close to that proverbial edge to worry about retaliating as he normally might have.

Jae-ha goes quiet for a moment, but he breaks that silence with a low groan of his own. “...Sorry. I should’ve taken your offer.”

“It’s okay,” Kija assures him.

His eyes are shut tight, picturing Jae-ha’s face hovering over his own, pretending that the fingers up his ass are the skilled, deft ones of his boyfriend — he’s envisioning Jae-ha over him, taking care of him, softly talking him to his orgasm, as Kija lazily strokes his own cock for added effect; if only he could feel those lips over his shoulders, kissing sinful marks into skin as beautiful and pale as the moon.

_ You might as well move in _ , he wants to add, and the thought clings to his mind for several long seconds as he considers allowing those words to slip out in his lustful haze. But somehow, he thinks better of it and manages to say, “You can stay over tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there early,” Jae-ha promises.

The enthusiasm in that response prompts a rough fit of laughter to bubble past Kija’s lips. He turns his face to the side, speaking shyly into his shoulder as he murmurs, “Looking forward to it.”

And that comfortable silence settles over them again, broken only by gasps and little sighs of appreciation. When Kija holds his breath for a moment, he can hear the wet smacking of Jae-ha’s hand, echoing throughout the quiet of his room. Jae-ha’s moans are hushed, but they come so close together, sound so raw, that Kija thinks he must be nearing his end.

Kija’s focus has reverted back to chasing the pleasure that’s been building up since the moment he answered the phone —  _ ah _ , how long ago? He spares a glance down at his phone, and in the back of his mind, he’s able to register the numbers as something just over half an hour.

Heat is coiling up in his abdomen, white-hot and deliciously tempting. His fingers are in search of his prostate again, crooking at a sharp angle each time he pushes them back into himself; his hand twists around his dick, and his toes curl.

“What if I told you to stop now?”

“I’d tell you  _ no _ ,” Kija says, and perhaps the light squeeze he gives himself after he speaks is a subconscious way of bringing Jae-ha there, to him, because he knows this devious man would have retaliated in some way. “I’m not as  _ obedient _ as you think.”

But Jae-ha only sounds amused. “You’re only saying that because I pointed it out.”

“T—That’s not true!” Kija tries, and it’s not just this intimate situation that’s making his voice crack as he attempts to defend himself — Jae-ha’s right, and they both know it. “You’re exasperating, J-Jae-ha,” he hisses impatiently when the other man laughs at his outburst. “I’m close.”

“That’s why I told you to stop,” Jae-ha tells him, with this incredibly cheeky grin that Kija can hear in his voice, and if Jae-ha were with him now, he would’ve kissed him stupid to wipe it off his face.

“ _ J-Jae-ha. _ ” It comes out in an impatient growl.

“ _ Oh _ .” Jae-ha’s breath hitches, voice trembling just a bit as he murmurs, “Call my name again,  _ Kija _ .”

That’s the nudge that Kija needs, the push that causes the tightened coil in his abdomen to spring forward with his release — his name, spoken so gruffly, commanding but still so tender; Jae-ha is good at that, somehow. His tendency to tack on an endearing pet name with every breath makes the real thing seem so much more passionate.

Kija thanks Jae-ha by murmuring for him between broken moans and sweet gasps muffled into his shoulder. He strokes himself through his orgasm, walls fluttering around the fingers filling him up as he spills onto his hand and his stomach. Jae-ha joins him only moments later with a groan of his name, a gentle laugh as though his mind is filled with the sweetest thoughts of his boyfriend.

As he comes down from his climax, he steadies his breathing, trying to hush himself in favor of listening to Jae-ha instead. He’s reaching for the pajama pants he’d taken off earlier, using them to clean his fingers, and he neatly rolls them up when he’s done.

“Ah...now I have to do laundry.”

When Jae-ha starts laughing, Kija realizes he said it out loud, and his face warms.

“It’s one in the morning,” Jae-ha finally says, but there’s still some heavy amusement lacing his voice. “You’re going to sleep.”

“No,” Kija argues as he’s shuffling out of bed, carefully pulling his dirty shirt over his head. “I’m going to wash my hands. Laundry first thing in the morning, though.” 

“Just how messy are you,  _ darling _ ?”

Refusing to be fazed by the drawl of Jae-ha’s voice, he snaps back with, “Perhaps you’d know if you came over when I asked earlier.” After collecting a clean shirt from his closet, he says, loud enough for Jae-ha to hear from the phone laying on the bed but hopefully soft enough that his neighbors won’t be bothered, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Kija faintly hears Jae-ha calling back, “Oh, take me with you!”

“Absolutely not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for such a long wait! i had planned to switch to jae-ha's side of the call for this chapter (which is the only reason i had split them into 2 chapters in the first place), but the more i considered it, i wanted to stay with kija after all. oops.
> 
> edit 12/12/20 ;; i'm so sorry, but i just had the hardest time finding any drive to write a third chapter, since the point was phone sex anyway! the third chapter would have been them together in person. sorry for not finishing it, but i hope you're able to enjoy my other / future jaeki works, anyway!


End file.
